


if home is where the heart is, then we're all just fucked

by orphan_account



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, Preschool AU, Viktor with a K, Yuri Viktor's little brother, and yuuri's nightmare lmao
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-09 16:34:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8899621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "Your son is quite the troublemaker," the teacher chided, playfully, and my God, was he cute. "He's not my son, he's my brother, and also I'm single," Viktor responded, not even thinking for a second, "and also also, I didn't mean to say that out loud."Or: The Preschool Teacher Yuuri AU Nobody Asked For But Everyone Needed(Title from Fall out Boy's "27")





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> HELLO! I have wanted to write this fic for a million years! Please enjoy lmao. first chapter is a little bit shorter than the future ones will be, but I just wanted to get the ball rolling. this will be slowish-burn, mutual pining kid fluff it'll be great. Believe me. not that slow of a burn though because i cannot control myself LMFAO

Viktor is honestly not a terrible caretaker. His brother is just a nightmare to take care of.

Technically, Yuri is his half brother. But that doesn't make him less than one-hundred percent of a handful. Viktor loves Yuri, of course he loves him terribly. But he is a little, four-year-old devil. Makkachin is wary of him, even, being the victim of one too many attacks with finger paints, and she loves everyone. Of course, that doesn't change Viktor's absolute devotion to his little brother. After their parents passed only a few years ago, it was just them, and all they had was each other. And Makkachin, of course, Makkachin was part of their little family, too.

He's easy enough to handle at home. Besides a few of the expected temper tantrums, he was a relatively well behaved kid, and low maintenance. All he needed was some crayons, some snacks and some cartoons and he was set. But around strangers, Yuri was a harrowing obstacle to conquer. Especially at the ice skating lessons he taught. Yuri loved the ice, and was getting quite good at skating around, but god forbid anybody try to take him off when lessons needed to be taught. He only ever brought him to the rink if he wasn't teaching, now. 

To try and escape this, Viktor enrolled him in daycare preschool, hoping that it would not only take some stress off of him, but teach him some social behavioral skills he desperately needed. Every weekday, he would drop Yuri off at school at 8am, and he would pick him up in front of the school at 4pm and go home to make them dinner. On the weekends, they would visit the ice rink and skate around together. It was the very same, day in and day out. Until, of course, one day Viktor got an out of the blue call at the end of one of his classes, as he was taking off his skates and high-fiving a couple of the kids who were on their way out. The number wasn't saved, but he picked it up anyway, answering with a quiet _Hello?_

"Mister... Nikiforov?"

The man pronounced his name a bit hesitantly, and Viktor shifted the phone more comfortably between his head and shoulder, suddenly nervous. He began unlacing his other skate as he spoke.

"Yes? Who's calling?"

"This is Mister Katsuki... I'm Yuri's preschool teacher?"

Ah, of course.

"Oh, god," Viktor groans, rubbing a hand over his face. "I'm so sorry, what did he do?"

"It's nothing bad!" The teacher- Mister Katsuki- says on the other end of the line to quell Viktor's sudden bubbling embarrassment. "Well, um, not bad for him... well, a little bad for him. He isn't injured! But there was a little fight, and some kicking-"

"I'm so sorry," Viktor blurts, interrupting the man on the other side of the line, "I told him no more kicking, I don't know what it is with him."

Mister Katsuki huffs a little laugh into the receiver. "It's really fine, but he's a little touchy, and it might be better for him to come home for the day. Is that alright? I don't want to inconvenience you."

"Inconvenience _me?"_ Viktor says, laughing off a fresh surge of mortification as he peels off his other skate and begins to towel them down, "I'd be making it your problem to keep him there the rest of the day. I'll be down to get him in ten minutes tops, alright?"

"Mm, thank you. No rush, he's calmed down a little bit now."

"Okay. Sorry," he apologizes, and drops the phone from his shoulder to hang up, sighing.

This kid is going to be the absolute _death_ of him.

* * *

 

Once his skates were properly dried and put away, Viktor walked to the daycare.

It was a short distance and he would be there quickly, but he took the time to admire the sleepy little town he'd moved to recently. It was a tight knit community, small town in Michigan where everybody knew everybody, just an hour from Detroit. After his parents had passed away, Viktor decided it might be best to start fresh and raise Yuri somewhere that wasn't Moscow's bustling city. Besides, Russia was not exactly a safe place for him considering his sexuality, and America had always been appealing to him since he first visited when he was 17 for a competition, nearly ten years ago. It was nice, and English was already something he was familiar with and knew well, and Yuri was speaking both Russian and English as well. Plus, Viktor could hardly stand living in the same house he used to share with his parents. It just didn't feel right.

In his introspection, he nearly passed the school. Breaking himself from his train of thought, he reached out, pressing the doors open as a gust of warm air rushed through him, and stood uselessly in the entrance.

He'd... never actually been inside of here, which was ridiculous, and made him feel a little like an inadequate guardian. How could he have never even gone inside his own little brothers school?

After getting directions and a room number from a kind woman in the office, he took a right turn down a hallway and knocked lightly on a door labeled A114, and covered with little paper snowflakes, likely made by the kids inside. He leaned in to inspect them closer when the door suddenly opened to reveal a very, _very_ cute Japanese man before him. Viktor's proximity to the door seems to shock him, and he jumps back, hand on his chest. 

"Oh, my gosh, you scared me," he snorted, dripping the handle of the door. "Mister Nikiforov?"

"Yes," he said, breath suddenly taken away. Christ, he was attractive, and if Viktor believed in something as cliche as love at first sight, he might bargain that this was it. He only got more and more sure as... Mister Katsuki? smiled and opened the door wider for him to slip inside. Viktor caught from the corner of his eye Yuri sitting in a corner of the decorated room as he entered, smashing blocks together, but he gets up and runs to Viktor when he sees him, clinging to his pant leg. Viktor pats Yuri's hair, and Mister Katsuki laughs brightly, like the gentle tinkling of bells. _Holy shit._

Immediately, his mind is full of ridiculous thoughts. _He's a teacher, so he must be out of college, and he doesn't look new. He's probably  four or five years younger than me. Twenty two? Twenty three?_

"Your son is quite the troublemaker," the teacher chided, playfully, and Viktor can hardly believe how much he was reacting to a simple _laugh,_ "but honestly not the worst I've dealt with. He's very sweet when he wants to be." The other man's glasses were blue, half rimmed and his hair was a stark black. His eyes were brown, which some may say were boring, but the way they shined with his smile was like a visual display of magic, especially with how it made Viktor's heart stutter embarrassingly. The teacher looked up at him, smile still stretching along his face, and Viktor cracks.

"He's not my son, he's my brother." A pause. "And also, I'm single," Viktor responds, not even thinking for a second. And then, humiliation licking at his heels, "and _also_ also, I didn't mean to say that out loud. How old are you?"

The way the teacher's cheeks go pink in surprise is very satisfying, and the nervous laugh he lets out a moment later even more so. His hand comes up to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear, clearing his throat. "That's nice," he says, for a lack of more words and normal cognitive function, seemingly short circuiting in front of Viktor. _Good_ , he thinks, _now we're on an even playing field_. "I mean, I'm twenty four. Why do you ask...?"

"Just curious," he mumbles, "I'm twenty seven, but I'll be twenty eight on Christmas."

"Interesting," Mister Katsuki says, eyes drifting over Viktor's face.

They spend the next several moments looking at each other- does he have _freckles?-_ before Yuri is pulling insistently on his jacket sleeve, jostling Viktor from his brown-eyes, black-haired stupor and gently shaking him back into reality. He tears his eyes away from Mister Katsuki's maybe-freckles down to his little terror.

"I want to go home," Yuri says, pulling on his hand, "I'm hungry." Viktor leans down to his level, pointing his finger in his face.

"We'll be having a _talk_ at home," He says sternly, looking back up at Mister Katsuki. "Sorry about him, I promise he doesn't get away with it." He puts himself back up off of one knee and tries to ignore Yuri's whining.

"Oh, it's no problem at all! Really, kids are just like that sometimes. It's my job!"

Viktor holds out his hand for a handshake, "Viktor, by the way."

The teacher looks at his hand, seemingly caught off guard, but slips his hand into Viktor's anyway, squeezing slightly. "Yuuri."

"What did he do now?"

A laugh, "No, that's my name. With two u's."

"Ah! Yuuri," Viktor holds Yuuri's one hand with both of his, "I hope to see you again soon... well, not that I want Yuri to pull anything like that again, but," he babbles, seemingly unable to stop the parade of words spilling out of his mouth.

Yuuri-with-two-u's just beams brilliantly at him, his smile is all teeth and it's making him weak. How long has he known this boy for? A solid three minutes? 

"It's no problem," Yuuri assures him, patting Viktor's hands that are encircling his, "I know what you mean. I was actually wondering why I never saw anybody picking Yuri up. You must get him at the front of the school?"

"Yes, but I'll probably start picking him up from the classroom now," he says, casually letting Yuuri's hands go and winking. It would probably be a lot more effective and charming if he wasn't sporting a healthy blush of his own, but Yuuri grins, cheeks pink, and nods.

"Then, I guess I'll see you tomorrow, Mister Nikiforov."

"Viktor," he reminds Yuuri.

"Viktor." And he just cannot get over how lovely his name sounds out of Yuuri's mouth. Yuuri clears his throat, gesturing with his head to their hands, and Viktor lets go, wondering exactly how long he's actually been holding _both of Yuuri's hands, oh my god, he's not a schoolgirl, get a grip-_

Yuri has ever so patiently been pulling at Viktor's jacket to make him move during this whole exchange, so Viktor flashes an apologetic smile, waves with his free hand, and follows along out of the door, incessantly yanking preschooler ahead of him.

"You're gross," Yuri says to him, turning around and sticking his tongue out.

_"You're_ gross,' Viktor retaliates, scooping him up and under his arm like he knows Yuri loves but won't admit, "and we don't _kick,_ mister."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You're so far gone," says Chris, smiling smugly into his coffee.
> 
> "I know," Viktor groans back, hitting his forehead against the wall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the positive feedback ; _ ;) nothing means more to me than the comments you guys leave, I really love seeing them and it really motivated me to get this chapter out ASAP!!! Hope you enjoy!
> 
> As a P.S., I am for some reason having a really hard time writing so I apologize if this chapter isn't up to your expectations but I really wanted to give you guys at least SOMETHING!!! So!!! I promise chapter three will be better, because that's when some juicy stuff happens!
> 
> EDIT: had to reupload bc the draft was being weird ANYWAY ENJOY!

Listen.

Viktor isn't good at being subtle.

There's actually a lot of things Viktor isn't good at, believe it or not. He has a bad memory, he can't carry a tune. He can barely boil water, and he's terrible at reading people. Which is unfortunate, because in the recent weeks his life has practically _become_  looking for signs from a certain black haired boy.

Yuuri is quiet, and a bit shy, which is incredibly charming. It seems like he's not just like that when Viktor is trying (and failing) to subtly flirt with him, it's whenever a parent tells him how much their child enjoys his class. It's a scratch of the cheek and a light dusting of blush, and Viktor is ridiculously endeared by it. He is also especially endeared by how well he handles children. On days where Viktor is a little early, he waits outside the class door with a couple of the other parents. He can catch the tail end of the school day through the small window, and it never fails to warm Viktor's heart. Things like finishing up a story he's reading to the kids and getting incredibly into character, stomping around the room with book in hand, or lifting kids up to put block on top of an ever-growing tower.

Viktor usually tried to exchange a few words with Yuuri before he went home, but he was a lot more popular with parents than he thought. Rightfully so, of course, but it was definitely impeaching on Viktor's tentative "see-what-kind-of-compliments-make-Yuuri-blush-the-hardest" plan. So far he'd gotten good results from "Your hair looks nice today" and "You know, your eyes are gorgeous" but there was far more research to be done.

"You let your heart wander too easily," Chris tells him, the fourth time Viktor brings Yuuri up in conversation while they glide freely on the ice. Honestly, Chris is a good friend for letting him test terrible compliments on him, but even he must have his limits. There are only so many nice things you can say about somebody's glasses.

Their afternoon lessons are over, kids long gone, but still too early to begin the walk down to Yuri's school, so they take the time to do some casual laps around the rink. More accurately, Viktor is doing backwards crossovers in lazy circles while Chris watches with an amused smirk on his face.

"I haven't let it _wander,"_ Viktor replies, gliding backwards and snowplowing to a stop next to Chris, "I have full control over it. It's right where I want it to be."

"Flung into the hands of a practical stranger?"

"He's not a _stranger-"_

Chris makes a humming noise- something that perfectly conveys the _mhmm, of course_  he won't vocalize- and sets a hand on Viktor's shoulder. "If you're going to actually pursue this seriously," he says, "then you should probably learn something more about him besides his name."

Viktor turns his nose. "I know plenty about him, Chris."

"Do you know if he's single?" He asks, smug, "Or interested in men, even?"

Viktor pouts as Chris laughs, easy and carefree. "Don't worry," he chimes, hand patting Viktor's back, "I'm sure that by now he would have said something about your incessant flirting if he wasn't."

"He's just shy," Viktor says, reassuring more himself than Chris at that point, "he never said to stop, or anything..."

Chris strokes forward to the exit and Viktor follows like a lost puppy, trading his previously confident crossovers with little, childish stomps across the ice. _This man is twenty seven,_ Chris thinks in the back of his mind.

"I'm just teasing," he says instead, slipping on his hard guards, "who could resist the Viktor Nikiforov? I'm positive he's just a little timid, is all."

Viktor, though flattered, is not convinced.

* * *

It's two weeks later, when it happens.

Viktor has been making leaps and bounds with Yuuri recently.

...

Alright.

Maybe leaps and bounds is a _bit_ over exaggerated, more like... well, Yuuri has finally started calling him by his first name after nearly a month of his insistence, _(please, Mister Nikiforov was my father...)_ so he chalks it down as a win.

And, as he begins to get to know Yuuri-with-two-u's better, little by little, he realizes two things.

One, it's getting increasingly difficult to stop from just throwing himself at him.

Two, he is _fucked_.

The second isn't really _just_ dawning on him. He felt it from the moment he met Yuuri. A strange, phantom tug, like he was meant to have a bastard little brother who bites and kicks and screams with a beautiful, patient, kind teacher. Viktor's face goes soft as hes lacing up his skates for a bit of practice in the closed session, thinking about Yuuri's sweetness and the way his eyes light up when the kids hug him goodbye. It's the weekend, said nightmare sibling is currently over a new friends house for a playdate, and Viktor is just standing up when he spots a familiar figure doing some impressive things on the ice.

He watches, blindsided from the bench at the dark haired boy's step sequence, his spins. He's setting up for a jump, and Viktor has never felt this transfixed by a skater at this rink before. Usually, it was all beginners, or highschool kids skipping out on class. He usually doesn't have time for the weekend closed sessions, since Yuri isn't skilled enough to be there yet, so this must be why he's never run into this person before. He looks, mesmerized for what must be several minutes before he can get a good look at the person's face.

And who would it be but the object of his affections, the man taking up ninety nine percent of his non-ice-skating-involved thoughts.

Yuuri.

In the few months he has worked here, nobody has impressed him to stunned silence, but Yuuri is apparently a master of surprise.

Yuuri enters forwards, gaining speed before taking off and landing the most beautiful, perfect triple axel Viktor has seen from someone that wasn't himself in _years._ He's getting up and running as best he can in his skates to the barrier before he even realizes he's moving, calling out to Yuuri who seems startled to see even one other person there. Yuuri blinks at the sudden interruption and doesn't respond past a quiet "Viktor?"

And, Lord, strike him down right here, for he can't go on.

If Viktor thought Yuuri was attractive before, his heart stops at the sight of him with his hair pushed back. It was noticeable from the bench, but this close up, Viktor feels like he's dead and an angel from heaven itself was sent to collect him. There is simply no other way to explain why this man was standing before him, now not only adorable but also sexy and hot and _what is wrong with me,_ he thinks briefly, before realizing he's likely staring.

He takes one more moment to admire how cute Yuuri's shocked face is before speaking up. "I've never seen you here before!" he says, voice carrying through the empty rink easily. 

Yuuri is silent.

"Do you usually go to a different rink?" Viktor tries.

Yuuri adverts his eyes, suddenly finding his fidgeting hands more interesting, and it takes a second for Viktor to realize _Yuuri_ was staring at _him,_ too. "No I just... I haven't... had time..." he pauses, looking back at Viktor, eyes searching him up and down curiously. Clearing his throat, he asks, "You work here?"

"Me?" Viktor points at himself as if there was anybody else Yuuri could be talking to. "Um. Why would you think that?"

"Well. For starters, it's a closed session," Yuuri states matter-of-factly, planting one toe pick into the ice to stabilize his stance on the ice, "usually I'm the only one here. They only let you in if you've passed the intermediate free skate test, or if you work here." Yuuri pauses, very pointedly checking Viktor out. "I mean, you do have the figure for an ice skater, but I wouldn't have thought-"

"Actually!" Viktor interrupts, pink like a rose and suddenly being hit with a good idea, "this is... I can't skate very well," he smiles sheepishly, pulling off a very convincing act of pretending he wasn't once a nearly professional figure skater, "could you show me?"

The following silence is almost tangible.

"Show you?" Yuuri asks, tilting his head.

"How to keep my balance," Viktor smiles, flirty, waving his hands, "maybe how to do one of those fancy jumps?" Viktor hopes against hope against hope that Yuuri did not see his picture hung up on the bulletin board of instructors at the front entrance.

If Viktor was better at reading people, he would think that it seemed as though something shifted in Yuuri's eyes, and if he was smarter he would ask him about it.

Instead, he drops it and Yuuri skates to the barrier, snowplowing to a stop in front of Viktor and leaning over the wall. "Are you flirting with me?" he asks, looking up through his eyelashes innocently.

Viktor grins, trying to hide his embarrassment. "Is it working?" He leans over Yuuri, enjoying the closeness and sort of desperately trying not to turn _completely_ red.

Yuuri smiles and, quickly, steps off the ice and bends over to put on his skate guards. "I have a lesson plan to make," he says, hand on Viktor's arm for balance, and Viktor has to take a second to _breathe,_ because that was weirdly intense, "and I didn't graduate school by being quite that gullible, but I'd be happy to skate with you sometime. I'm here every Saturday during the closed sessions." Yuuri lifts his head and smirks, and, no, Viktor is certainly not breathing. That expression should be illegal for Yuuri to have on.

"Am I that easy to read?" Viktor asks, voice embarrassingly weak. He wants to melt into the floor with the sheer humiliation of how obviously smitten he is, yet he remains solid as Yuuri leans into him again, flicking something at his chest and leaning back with a triumphant smile.

"You haven't taken off your name tag," and Yuuri fucking _winks,_ walking past a dumbfounded Viktor who can't help but follow Yuuri's path back to the locker rooms. It would have definitely been sexy if he didn't look over his shoulder and blush after catching Viktor's eyes again, walking just a bit faster.

Instead, it's ridiculously enchanting, and Viktor feels like he's _dying._

"You looked beautiful out there!" Viktor calls at Yuuri's retreating form, and realizes a second too late he won't be able to record whatever blush Yuuri is sporting into his mental "see-what-kind-of-compliments-make-Yuuri-blush-the-hardest" catalogue.

Though, if his ears and the stutter in his walk are anything to go by, he would say that it 's pretty high on the list.

* * *

 Later, over lunch at the ice rinks snack bar, Viktor relays the entire scene to Chris, who just laughs.

"You're so far gone," Chris coos, smiling smugly into his syrupy sweet coffee.

"I know," Viktor groans back, closing his eyes hitting his forehead against the wall, "I feel like I'm going insane. But you saw him! He never wears his hair like that at work, _god,_ he's so _cute."_   Viktor stops himself mentally there. Was he losing his mind? Was he too into this guy? Should he be going to some kind of daily intensive therapy? Maybe.

Was he now overreacting? Probably.

"Really," Chris asks again, failing to hide his snickering, "he just _touched your shoulder_ and you were burning up?"

"It's true love!" Viktor yells, indignant.

Under his breath, "You're _truly_   an idiot." Viktor is humming with mortification.

"And you-" Viktor says, opening his eyes and staring at Chris with a ferocity that would be jarring to anybody that wasn't his best friend, "you _knew_ he came to our rink and you didn't bother to tell me?"

Chris leans back in his side of the booth, taking a long sip of his drink, which fails to hide the self satisfied grin he's wearing. "I thought it'd be fun to see how long it took before you bumped into each other."

The sound of Viktor's head meeting the wooden table isn't nearly as loud of Chris' laughter that follows suit.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .... (VIKTOR VOICE) WOW! AMAZING!
> 
> I guess someone must have rec'd my fic somewhere, because the response to the last chapter was OVERWHELMING!!! I dunno who it was (I searched lol) but thank you!! AND thank you ALL so much for your kind words I am really flattered, and I'm glad so many of you are enjoying this;;; I'll try to live up to the hype LOL
> 
> I'm thinking there will be 7 or so chapters to this fic but I can't say for sure yet, so for now the chapter count will remain '?' for now
> 
> Also, I'm sorry I am such a slow writer with not much to offer when I do update lol I'M TRYING!!!!!! A warning that I know this chapter really isn't up to par but I have been fiddling with it for almost a month now and I really can't get it anywhere. I'm really sorry it's short and kind of terrible, one day I will come back and revisit it, But I have already written 70% of chapter 4 and it's coming so much easier. SO IM SORRY!! I PROMISE YOU WONT HAVE TO WAIT THIS LONG EVER AGAIN LOL
> 
> P.S. I'm working on a long soulmate fic on the side so please look forward to that and also that's what's taking my attention away from this lmao.

"And then I winked at him."

"You winked at him!?"

"Yes! Me! Winked at the most gorgeous person I have seen in all of my life, and then he called me beautiful, and I almost fell over."

Phichit's laughter rings loud and clear, even through the microphone of his cell and the speaker of Yuuri's computer. Despite thousands of miles separating the USA and Thailand, it still feels like Phichit is right there with him, and it does wonders for his frazzled nerves.

"Oh, so suddenly you're a master flirt? That's just like you," he chirps, smiling into the camera, "you haven't changed at all! Remember when that guy we met in Detroit-"

"Eugh," Yuuri physically recoils, "don't remind me. That is the number one most embarrassing Katsuki Yuuri moment." He sighs, expelling the memory from his mind. "And besides, you never change either, mister five-hundred selfies a day." Yuuri says, browsing through Instagram on his phone. His feed is absolutely flooded with pictures of the ice, plus some pictures from Cup of China, and it makes Yuuri's chest swell with nostalgia. How long has it been since he was there? Two, three years? He can hardly remember. He tries not to think about it.

"Guilty." Phichit says, throwing a peace sign.

"Ah, but anyway," Yuuri backtracks, putting the phone down and settling back into his chair, "I'm not even really sure if he actually likes me or anything. He seems like a flirty type, you know? Like a heart throb," Yuuri waves his hands, vague and undefined like the way hes feeling. "Plus, he's one of my kid's brother. Is that... bad? Is that weird?"

Phichit chuckles again, leaning against his pillows. "It's fine," he replies, covering up a yawn. It was late in Bangkok- past 11pm, and Yuuri knew Phichit had a flight the next morning, suddenly struck with a pang of guilt for keeping his friend up.

He shrugs, dismissing the conversation. "You should get to sleep. You have Rostelecom tomorrow, right? Flying out to Russia early?"

Phichit beams, "You remembered!"

Yuuri rolls his eyes in an of course I did manner, and Phichits smile only grows. "I have a flight at 9am. I guess I really should get to sleep, huh?"

"Definitely. You're only a shoe in for gold if you're actually awake to get it. This is your year, alright?"

Phichit nods, yawns one last time and wishes Yuuri farewell and good luck, and Yuuri closes his laptop, tipping backwards into his own pillows, picking one up to, forcefully shove his face into.

The thing is, Yuuri is pretty inexperienced when it comes to romance. Besides one (very embarrassing, very brief) stint with some guy he met at college in Detroit when he and Phichit were training together, his love life was lackluster and almost comedically bare. Phichit likes to poke fun at him for it, and he likes to go along. But it's not as though he's inexperienced. He's twenty three years old, for God's sake, he isn't innocent. He's had his share of drunken one night stands (one), sloppy kisses (dozens), but not an actual dating record.

And he didn't want just an awkward one night stand with Viktor (or with anyone, really). He wanted something of substance, but how could he expect that when he has nothing to offer?

Here were the things he had stacked in his favor: Viktor was handsome, maybe possibly interested in him, and he was old enough that he probably wasn't looking to fool around, hopefully looking to settle down.

Here were the things he had stacked against him: Literally everything else. Anxiety? Depression? General insecurity and inexperience with lasting romantic relationships? Check, check, and check.

Thinking about it, Yuuri had a strong, sudden urge to smother himself in his nest of blankets. Why was he even worried about this? He barely even knew Viktor. He knew Yuri better than he knew Viktor, and he barely even knew much about the little blonde boy anyway.

Just thinking about it extensively was making his stomach rise into his throat. He already felt a stupid amount for Viktor, and he'd only known him for what, two months? And even then, he was only making small talk. It was like he was in high school again, with some kind of stupid hopeless crush.

Of course, there was that small, giddy part of Yuuri that told him Viktor was definitely interested. But the bigger, more convincing part of him said it was a fleeting interest- and he didn't want to subject himself to an avoidable heartbreak. In the quiet of his apartment, Yuuri wondered just how weird it would be if he asked Yuri about it... but he couldn't actually do that. Besides being weird, it was incredibly unprofessional...

* * *

It turns out, Yuuri really could do that.

Yuuri definitely knows shame, but at this point, he can't be bothered to be too worried about it. He's anxious about the possibility that Viktor is coming on to him, and it's greatly outweighing the embarrassment of asking this four year old for dating advice.

This four year old who was currently looking at his craft time drawing like it owed him money, scribbling on it with a vengeance. Yuuri kneels at his side and compliments the drawing, to which Yuri doesn't respond. They sit in a slightly awkward silence before Yuuri clears his throat and wills his thoughts into words.

"So... you and your brother." Yuuri starts, as Yuri snaps a red crayon in half with the ferocity in which he is coloring, top and bottom barely connected by the paper wrapping. The four year old hardly reacts, and Yuuri subtly picks up the pack of crayons he was using and holds it to his side, out of reach of Yuri's destructive hands. He's perched by Yuri's side as he sits at the crafts table, and he doesn't even think Yuri is ever going to reply to him until he pauses for a short second, scanning another part of the paper.

"Me and my brother," Yuri repeats, crayon back down and still coloring despite the its state. He's drawing God knows what, maybe a murder scene, judging by all the red.

Yuuri gives himself just a moment to chastise himself for just how creepy this is before continuing. "Is it just you at home with Viktor? Or does your brother have... someone." Yuuri folded his hands, hardly believing he really, really did that. What the hell was he thinking? He was going to get fired.

With that, Yuri pauses to stare directly into Yuuri's eyes, and if he didn't know better, he would think he was trying to kill him with just the look.

"Someone."

It's not a question, and Yuuri is wondering how a four year old could be genuinely intimidating. He waves his hand in an unsure way, trying to convey his question without words.

"A girlfriend?" he finally asks. There's another short pause before Yuri goes back to drawing, looking back down at his paper.

"He doesn't date girls," he replies, nonchalant like it's not the best thing Yuuri has heard all year. In fact, Yuuri does his level best not to cheer.

"Oh. I see. Does he have a boyfriend?"

"I dunno," Yuri says to him, exasperatedly putting down his crayon and looking back up at his teacher. "Viktor told me not to say anything to you."

That captures Yuuri's attention. He smirks at the implication, not wanting to make assumptions but everything seems to be making sense. "Nothing to me?" he asks curiously, trying to hide exactly how interested he is in the rest of this story. Yuuri is almost positive the four year old knows exactly what he's giving away, and he's glad him and Yuri seem to be bonding, even if it's a little unconventional.

"About how much he talks about you. Which is a bunch." Yuri pauses, looking around. "Where did the crayons go? I need blue."

Yuuri's almost sure his face is straining from how heavily he is suppressing the urge to smile from ear to ear. He looks down at the box he has and looks through it. "But you are, right now."

Yuuri hands him a blue crayon, which Yuri gratefully accepts. "I know," Yuri answers, putting it to paper and getting back to his dedicated coloring. "I don't listen to him."

Yuuri leans a hand onto the table, collecting stray drawing paper into a neat pile. "Why's that? You should listen to him more, he works hard for you."

Yuri just shrugs. "Cause he's stupid."

Yuuri startles the entire room with how hard he laughs.

* * *

 

"I hope he wasn't too much trouble for you today, Yuuri," Viktor says when he stops by to pick Yuri up.

The four year old barely acknowledges him, eating a pack of goldfish Yuuri had given him to try to make friends. It seemed to work.

"No, he was great," Yuuri says, patting Yuri's shoulder, "we had a fun time today. Learned a lot." Yuri smirks up at his teacher and turns his attention to Viktor, who recognizes his grin and looks a little nervous at it.

"Oh really?" Viktor asks, ruffling Yuri's hair with a small, hesitant smile, "what about?"

"You," Yuri says, deadpan from where he stands next to Viktor, smacking his hand away. "What's for dinner? I'm hungry."

At that, Viktor pales noticeably. "Me?"

Yuri shakes his goldfish to assess how many are left. "Yeah."

Looking slightly panicked, Viktor's eyes find Yuuri's and search for an answer. Yuuri offers him nothing, just smiles, amused, and gestures to Yuri who is fighting to dig the last couple crackers out of the crinkling package he is holding.

"What about me," Viktor asks carefully. His tone of voice betrays how much he doesn't really want to know, morbid curiosity about what his little brother could have said to ruin his reputation getting the best of him.

"Um," the four year old tries, "the stuff you said not to say."

Yuuri raises an eyebrow at Viktor, who turns alarmed at Yuuri with an expression Yuuri will have to commit to memory. He can't imagine he will be seeing very much of it, especially since Viktor looks like he might die right there on the spot. All Yuuri can do in response is an amused smile.

"I... I'm so sorry-" he begins, ready to dive into a dozen apologies, but is stopped by Yuuri holding his hands up.

"It's okay," he promises, "it's... it's endearing?" Yuuri shrugs, embarrassment finally finding him with a small blush. His expression quirks into something mimicking deep thought, as if he hasn't been planning what he would say at this point for the past several hours. "Maybe make it up to me by meeting me at the rink on Saturday?"

Viktor looks shell shocked, but nods nonetheless. "I- really? I mean, yeah. Yes, okay, yes."

"Then, it's a date?" Yuuri says, smiling brilliantly. His blush has no doubt spread to his ears at this point, but he attempts to keep up the _"I don't actually feel so nervous and embarrassed right now that I want to die"_ facade he's put on.

Luckily, Viktor's relieved sigh is all the more charming with the proceeding, airy, "yes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments and kudos are appreciated!!

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr @jaufeaa  
> twitter @_jaufea


End file.
